


or perhaps in slytherin, you'll make your real friends

by fakeheaux



Series: hogwarts au [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Houses, Humor, IDK what I was doing, Meet-Cute, Slytherin, Sorting Ceremony, blah, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeheaux/pseuds/fakeheaux
Summary: "I'm Niall," he says, grinning. He sticks a hand out. The other boy laughs quietly, almost disbelievingly, before taking it."Zayn."





	

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i don't know how to let things go
> 
> i took some liberties with seamus finnigan, resident irish in the hp world, and made it so he lives in mullingar with niall. the only slight proof i have is that according to the first book seamus lives in the country, and so did niall, to an extent, so...nothing is real who cares
> 
> title from the sorting song in the first book of the harry potter series

Niall gets the letter while he's playing footy in the yard with Greg. A barn owl, the kind he's seen quite a bit before, flies at him in plain daylight and drops a thick envelope onto his head. He screams, because what else is there to do, but fortunately Greg doesn't laugh at him. Greg actually makes sure that he's okay.

And then he steals Niall's letter and runs off like the prat he is.

They race back to the house, both yelling for their father but for different reasons. When they make it into the door, Greg shoves him in the face and commands him to bring in the discarded football. Grumbling, Niall does so. Not because Greg told him to, but because he knows that his da will, in the end.

When he gets back inside, his da is sitting at the table, Greg standing beside him, both poring over the open letter. Greg's got an arm on the backrest of Bobby's chair, a hand bearing his weight on the table. Bobby looks mildly annoyed at the invasion of personal space, but he doesn't say anything, just reads. His brow is furrowed, the corners of his mouth furled up in a scowl. When he's finished reading he throws the letter onto the tabletop angrily. Greg cranes his neck, not quite finished yet.

"What the hell is this, then?" Bobby asks. "Some sort of joke from the blokes down the road?"

Niall shrugs, feeling chastised. "An owl gave it to me, da," he mumbles quietly. He can see Greg smirking from behind the chair. "Don't know who it's from, I haven't even read it yet."

Bobby stands, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to look up this Hogwarts, you know. Can't just trust things that come from nowhere."

Nodding, Niall waits until his father's out of the room before throwing the football at Greg. "Knob," he snips. Greg just laughs, dodging the ball easily. They both look at the letter at the same time, and Niall's eyes widen. "No, Greg, it's mine -" he dives onto the table to snatch the letter out of Greg's grip, cheering triumphantly when he's got hold of it. Jumping off the table is no easy feat, not when he's got chairs to dodge, but he makes it perfectly fine, and runs to his room.

Locking the door behind him and ignoring Greg's pounding, Niall clambers into his bed and opens the letter so he can read.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL** _of_ **WITCHRAFT** _and_   **WIZARDRY**

**-**

Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Horan,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Niall gasps. Folded behind the first page is the list of materials that Niall is apparently going to need or this school, with crazy stuff like black robes and pointy hat. A list of books and other things follow, and Niall can't help but grin. Obviously this Minerva person has gotten him mixed up with another Horan, but it's fine. He'll pretend for now. He scrambles across his bed on his knees to check the calendar hanging right above his pillow. July tenth. He's got twenty one days to find an owl and reply.

And if he were to go to this Hogwarts, how would he buy everything he needs? Mullingar definitely hasn't got a book by some - he checks the list - Newt Scamander. Sounds like a strange breed of salamander, and Ms. Harding in the library won't be afraid to tell him so.

Sighing, Niall tucks the letter back into its envelope, then hides that in his sock drawer, so Greg doesn't find it. He opens the door to an empty hallway, no Greg in sight, and nods happily. He's starving, and trying to eat a snack with Greg in the same room has proven to be pointless as of late.

•

The next day, when Bobby gets home from work, the first thing he says is, "James Finnigan's heard of the school. Says his boy got a letter just like yours not three days ago." He crosses his arms at Niall, who's sitting on the floor and trying to _not_ get paint on the carpet. "You'll be going with them tomorrow to buy what you need."

Eyebrows raising, Niall stands carefully, dodging the paint set on the floor. "I am?" Bobby nods. "Are you coming, da?"

Bobby sighs. "I've got work, Niall, I can't. I'll give you a few pounds, for the materials, and I'll look everything over with you once you're back, but I can't call off work. You know that."

Niall nods, chewing on the inside of his lip. "Will you at least take me to King's Cross?"

Nodding, Bobby ruffles Niall's hair. You bet. Gonna have to take the ferry to get to London, but no matter. Now go get your brother; we're going out for dinner tonight."

•

Seamus Finnigan is a boy no taller than Niall, with sandy hair and blue eyes bright like Niall's. He smiles and holds out a hand when Bobby introduces them, leads him into the house.

"Mam's at work, right now - she works for the Ministry - so it'll just be da and I today," he says over his shoulder. Bobby's already left for work, and apparently Seamus's da works from home. "But maybe you'll meet her someday. She should be at King's Cross on September first, but we're not sure yet." Niall hasn't got a clue what the Ministry is, but he's not going to say anything. Seamus might think him daft.

He swings open the door to his da's study, leaning bodily on the doorknob. "Da, Niall's here. We should get going; Diagon Alley'll be swamped if we get there past noon."

Mr. Finnigan grunts, back turned to them. He stretches, arms raised to the ceiling, and stands. "Alright then," he says. "We're going to have to catch a bus into the city."

Biting his lip, Niall thinks of the five twenty pound notes sitting in his pocket; his da had said to spend it on his school stuff and nothing else. Does a bus ride count?

When they get to the station, it turns out that he needn't worry. Mr. Finnigan pays for the three of them readily, and finds them a nice seat, right underneath a wheezing air conditioning unit. Seamus won't stop talking, and normally Niall would be game, only he doesn't understand anything Seamus is talking about.

"We went to a game last year, wasn't it, da, and the Hollyhead Harpies won three hundred and forty to twelve. Twelve!" He shakes his head disapprovingly. "The Chudley Cannons were right furious; they set fire to the Harpies Seeker."

Laughing, Niall shakes his head. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

Seamus's jaw drops. "Oh, I forget you're Muggleborn!" He turns suddenly to his father, sat on his other side. "Da, could Niall come over more during the next month? He doesn't know anything about Hogwarts or _anything_ ; I need to teach him!"

With a raised brow, Mr. Finnigan agrees, if only Bobby says the same.

When they get to Diagon Alley, Niall finds himself suddenly grateful for Seamus, who explains everything to him, right down to the Apothecary and its purpose. The alley is packed to the brim with people wearing the strangest clothing, like bathrobes but much more festive. The stores all have the craziest adverts, like invisible ink and mood rings that tell you other people's moods. Niall's sure he'd be lost by now if he didn't have Seamus and his father.

They pass by a store packed with different kinds of owls, and Seamus pauses.

"Have you sent your confirmation letter to Hogwarts yet?" he asks. Niall shakes his head. "Alright, well, we can just do that now. I figure you won't really be sending owls too often, unless you buy one for yourself. Have you got the money for it?"

Shrugging, Niall digs into his pocket and pulls out his money. "I'm not sure if this'll cover the books, uniform, supplies, _and_ an owl, to be honest." He frowns. "I've no idea how much everything costs."

Tutting, Seamus snatches the cash out of Niall's hand, ignoring his protests, and shoves then in his father's face. "Da! Niall needs wizard money!"

With a fond but exasperated look, Mr. Finnigan calmly takes the money and, with a kind nod to Niall, walks to what looks like a strange money dispenser. He feeds all of Niall's cash into it, much to his dismay, and pulls a small coin bag out of pocket. Niall frowns at Seamus, but the other boy just sucks his teeth impatiently and turns him to keep watching Mr. Finnigan.

"Oh," is all Niall can say when dozens of gold, silver, and bronze coins all fall out of the machine and into the pouch.

"Wizard money," Seamus explains, taking the bag from his father. He pulls out a coin of each color, holds them up for Niall to see. "Galleons are the gold ones, they're worth the most and they're the biggest. Sickles are the silver one, second biggest and worth maybe half a Galleon. Then the Knut, smallest and cheapest. It goes like this: twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. Got it?"

A bit dazed, Niall nods. "So - will I have enough?"

Mr. Finnigan clears his throat pointedly. "Why don't we send your letter to Hogwarts first, Niall," he says gently, "then worry about the rest?"

To send a small letter to Hogwarts - _Dear Ms. McGonagall, thank you for inviting me to your school, I'd be happy to attend, sincerely Niall Horan_ \- it costs him just five Knuts. He struggles with tying the letter to the owl's leg, but the bird seems more than happy to wait until he gets it. The owl sits patiently as the shopkeeper explains the right technique to tying a scroll to an owl's leg. Niall decides that he will buy himself an owl, just because last year Greg got a dog and won't let Niall play with him, even though Niall does most of the work. This way he can brag about his cool bird and not let Greg play with him.

He's sure his da will understand.

They get their books, they attend a fitting for robes, and get the rest of their things. Seamus keeps up a running commentary on everything and everyone, from the broomstick on display in one shop to a pale blond boy following his equally pale and blond father. Mr. Finnigan checks everything off their school lists as they go through the shops until there's nothing left, to Niall's knowledge. When Niall gets ready to leave, however, Seamus stops him.

"Cant leave without your wand, Niall," he laughs kindly. "What'll you do magic with?"

"Oh," Niall says again.

They walk into a cramped, musty old shop with long, thin boxes piling high inside. There's no obvious organizational system, and Niall grimaces. If he ran a wand shop, he'd definitely take better care of everything.

"Would you, Niall Horan?" says a quiet voice. Niall jumps about a foot in the air, dropping one of his parcels, and turns to the voice. He ignores Seamus's snicker. It's an old man with silvery thin hair and milky white eyes.

"Wandlore is a difficult magic to study, my boy," says the old man. "One gets tangled up with all the work involved, and cannot always keep things visibly tidy." He places a small bit of emphasis on _visibly_ , and Niall blushes.

"Do, um, do you read minds, sir?" he asks, voice small.

The old man smiles happily. "No."

Approaching Niall, he pulls a tape measure out of his pocket. "Wand arm, please?"

At a loss, Niall glances at Seamus for help. Frantically, the other boy waves his right hand. Nodding, Niall holds his own up. The old man - Niall is just going to assume he's Ollivander seeing as that's the name on the window - tuts.

"No, not quite. Which hand do you write with, my boy?" Ollivander smiles kindly. Niall raises his left hand instead, and Ollivander nods. He sets to measuring every inch of Niall's body, his height, around his waist, his arm length. And then he lets go of the tape measure and moves on to the stack of wands right behind him.

Niall laughs, shocked. The tape measure is moving on its own now, measuring the bridge of his nose.

"Every magical wand has a core of powerful substance, Mr. Horan. There's - try this one," without even finishing his sentence, he shoves a wand into Niall's hand. "Nine and a half inches, unicorn hair core, oak, slightly bendy. Should work, now give it a wave."

With a little flick of his wrist, Niall sends a shower of red sparks flying into the room. Ollivander doesn't even blink.

"No, no," he mutters, and he switches wand for wand for wand, until Niall is sure he's gone through half the store. Seamus and his father are sat, sharing a chair that's been splintered in the legs, watching. Mr. Finnigan looks a bit bored, but Seamus is wide eyed, leaning forward on his da's lap. He nods eagerly when Niall glances at him for help.

"This should be the one," Ollivander says firmly, pressing yet another wand into his hand. Niall sighs, but it cuts itself off when he feels a surge of warmth rush up his arm and spread throughout his body. He looks up at Ollivander, eyes wide. The old man nods. "I thought so. Twelve inches exactly, chestnut, dragon heartstring core, unyielding. Should do. Now give it a little -" he waves his hand about, arms crossed.

Niall does so, swishing the wand. A surge of power flows out of him, sending golden lights floating about the room. He laughs giddily, and Ollivander takes the wand from him gently.

"This is the one, Mr. Horan. It's quite a smart one, a bit stubborn, but it's chosen you," Ollivander says. He shrugs. "Mustn't argue with a wand." He places it back in its box and wraps it in brown paper, then hands the parcel to him. "Now," he turns to Seamus. "Your turn."

•

Bobby is unimpressed when Niall turns up at home with a particularly large barn owl, heart faced and a light brown.

"What the hell is that?" he asks when Niall walks through the door. It's already dark out; both Niall and Seamus had taken a while to get a wand, and they'd pored over all their things when they'd gotten back to Seamus's for so long that they'd lost track of time.

"Um," Niall looks down at himself, laden down with parcels and bags and even a cauldron (wizards _actually_ use cauldrons!), along with the cage his owl is in. "Can I get some help, please?"

Snorting, Bobby frees him of every item but the cage, and arranges it all on the table. "Why have you got a bleeding owl, Niall?"

"Well," Niall starts. He heaves the cage onto the table, ignoring his da's grimace. "Thing is, every respectable wizard has one, da. It's how they communicate, see. They don't have emails or phones like we do, it's all written. They haven't got a normal mailing system like we do, either, they've just got owls. Or other birds, sometimes, but it's rare, really. So if I need to send someone a letter, I've got to use an owl. But if I haven't got one, I can't send the letter. It's actually quite a good investment."

Bobby quirks an eyebrow. "Really."

Niall nods, humming.

"And who's going to be caring for this owl, then?" he asks.

Luckily, Niall was expecting this question. "The great thing about owls, da, is that they're extremely self-reliant. They can feed themselves, bathe themselves, they're practically independent." He pokes a finger through the bars of the cage and strokes the owl's back. The owl coos happily. "All I need to give is the occasional treat and wash and, most importantly, love."

A snort rings out through the otherwise quiet room, and Nial jerks his head towards the sound. It's Greg, sitting on the couch. Niall hadn't even noticed him. 

Greg stands. "Do you hear this bollocks, da?" He snorts again. " _Love_. The damn thing doesn't even understand what we're saying, Niall. It's just a bird."

He sticks a finger through the bars and wiggles it in front of the owl's face. Eyes hooded, the owl stares at Greg, unimpressed. Greg shakes his head. "Like I said, doesn't even understand - shit!" He jerks his finger back, cradling it his chest.

"Language, Greg," Bobby says mildly.

"What?" Greg snaps. "The thing just bit me!"

"Actually, birds don't bite," Niall chimes helpfully. "They just peck or - or nip." He takes a step back when Greg glares at him.

Shaking his head, Bobby sighs. "I don't need to hear this thing in the middle of the night, Niall James."

"Yes sir," Niall nods.

They spend the night going through his things, Niall explaining the uses of everything - and ignoring Greg's rude comments - and where he bought them. He shows Bobby the coins he has left - over half, amazingly - and explains wizard currency. Bobby tells him he can keep the rest of the coins, but warns him it's the most he'll be getting in a while.

When Bobby turns in for the night, Niall hauls his buy to his room and continues to go through it. He carefully opens his new copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ , which wasn't a required book but something he wanted for himself, and begins reading. 

The next morning, he wakes up with his cheek plastered to a page of his book, and has to carefully peel it off. He's retained almost nothing of what he's read, but he's determined to reread it until he has.

He goes over to Seamus's with his owl - newly dubbed Niamh, for her bright face and undercoat - perched on his shoulder. Niall's excited to learn more about the wizarding world. It felt like he hadn't seen enough during his visit to Diagon Alley. There had been so much to see, to hear, to learn. He feels like he'll never know enough.

Seamus is fairly excited to see him. Takes Niall straight to his room and starts showing him all his toys and things. They spend the day like that, then the week like that, then the next two months like that. Greg goes back to school, Bobby keeps working, and Niall spends his days learning more about the world he's soon to be apart of. It's like nothing he's ever done before, and he revels in it, in being different. He loves it, really.

Niamh is definitely a plus to the whole thing. She's a complete love to be around, always cooing happily when she sees Niall, even if he doesn't have a treat for her. He lets her fly around his room and make a sort of nest out of the scraps she finds around the room. She spends her time traipsing around the house, talons clicking on the hardwood floors where she follows Niall, and eventually even Bobby. Some days she refuses to leave her perch on Niall's shoulder, and others she'll be gone all day before returning deep into the night.

Niall always leaves his window open for her.

•

September first comes quickly, and Seamus's family comes with Niall's on the ferry, then the trolley, to King's Cross. They've enough luggage to clothe a small country, a trunk and three additional bags each. Niall gets plenty of strange looks for Niamh, sitting regally in her cage.

"Platform nine and three quarters," Bobby reads on Niall's ticket. He looks up, making a face. "That can't be right."

"It is, actually," says Seamus's mam. "Just follow me."

So they do. Right to a pillar with the numbers nine and ten hanging on either side. She turns, raising her brows pointedly, then leans back on the pillar.

And promptly disappears.

"Oh," laughs Seamus. "Okay." He walks right up to the pillar and follows his mam through. Sighing, so does Mr. Finnigan. Niall turns to Bobby.

"You haven't got to come if you don't want," he says. "I know it's going to be really strange for you, surrounded by everything." He shrugs. "Won't mind."

Bobby shakes his head, looking down at Niall fondly. "Of course I'm coming, lad," he says. "I'm about to lose you for nine months, and right before your birthday, too; need to say a proper goodbye."

Grinning, Niall nods, and they walk through the barrier together.

•

The train ride is uneventful. They meet a bushy haired girl named Hermione, and an equally bushy haired boy named Harry, even though they both seem insulted when Niall asks if they're related. He can't be blamed; they both got big teeth and big hair. He and Seamus sit in a compartment with a tall black boy named Dean Thomas and, for about five minutes before he loses his toad, a round boy named Neville Longbottom. They buy sweets off the trolley, the likes of which Niall has never heard of, then get sick off the treats off the trolley. Niall counts is as a good day.

It's dark by the time they get to the school, and Niall is struggling not to trip over his long robes as they climb into boats that'll carry him across the lake. When they see the castle that's meant to house them for the next nine months, Niall can't help but gasp. He's only ever seen one castle in his short ten years, and he barely remembers it.

They're ordered to wait until they're called, and when they're called they're ordered to wait until they're called again. They're meant to sit on a stool and put on a hat, which Niall knew about from reading _Hogwarts, A History_. He's just not sure why Hermione didn't remember it; she was gloating about having read it on the train.

When Seamus is called, Niall gives him an encouraging smile and lightly pushes him forward. They sit in silence for almost a whole minute before the hat belts out "GRYFFINDOR!" and Niall gives him a high five as he passes. Then Hermione is called, another Gryffindor, then he's called.

He slowly ambles up to the stool, stomach in knots, and almost slips off pulling himself up. He's glad the hat is so large when it's slipped onto his head; it covers his burning cheeks. He sits patiently until a small voice whispers in his ear, "Tough one, you are. A thirst for greatness, a struggle for power...your brother seems to bring out the best in you, yet you're unaware of it." _How?_  Niall can't help but wonder. "Well," says the hat, "he makes you want to be better, in every way. That's good for all the Houses, really, so what else can we use...you're smart, that's good...maybe Ravenclaw?" Niall can hear the hat flapping, about to make its decision, but Niall shakes his head. "No? I see...well, you're a good problem-solver. You think things through, you have a want for the truth. But you're also quite stubborn, so...perhaps you will be best in SLYTHERIN."

Niall flinches at the sudden yell, and when the hat is pulled off his head he's mildly disoriented.Which table is Slytherin's again? Professor McGonagall, standing right beside him, gives him a light push in the right direction. As he walks, he seeks out Seamus, sat at the Gryffindor table. The other boy looks confused, but gives him a weak thumbs up anyway. The students at the Slytherin table clamber over themselves to talk to him.

"Took you long enough!"

"Up there for hours, you were!"

"What did she say your last name was, again?"

"Um," Niall stammers, struggling to arrange his robes so he can sit. "Horan, Niall Horan."

The girl frowns, lowering her voice politely. "Horan? Not a very wizard name, is it? Where are you from?"

Shrugging, Niall answers truthfully. They girl sits back, almost disappointed.

"Oh, a Muggleborn, then," she mumbles, and doesn't speak to him again. Niall sighs. He'd remembered, from  _Hogwarts, A History,_ that Salazar Slytherin, founder of Slytherin House, was distrustful of Muggles and Muggleborns, but he didn't think it would still be apparent today. He shakes himself out of it and faces the front again. The pale boy he remembered seeing in Diagon Alley is sorted into Slytherin, and is met with cheers and handshakes by everyone at the table.

Then, a boy named Zayn Malik sits upon the stool. He's up there for no more than fifteen seconds when the hat calls out "SLYTHERIN." once again. The boy smiles bashfully, then sits down right beside Niall. He's met with more fervor than Niall was, though less than the pale boy. Draco, Niall remembers.

"I'm guessing you're a pureblood?" he asks. Zayn looks at him sharply, eyebrows quirked.

"What makes you say that?" They've both got their voices lowered, so as not to interrupt the ceremony.

Niall shrugs. "The others didn't turn away when they heard your name. Did the same with Draco," he whispers.

Zayn nods. "Yeah, I'm a pureblood. My dad's an author; he's actually written some of the books they use here. Probably why I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw." Niall perks up. "Are you a pureblood?"

Oh. He wasn't expecting that. "Um, no, actually. I'm a Muggleborn. I know, it's ironic, being a Muggleborn in Slytherin, but. Couldn't help it. Well, I could've been in Ravenclaw, was almost put there too, but I said no."

Humming, Zayn looks up at the stool again. A girl has just hopped off, then Professor McGonagall calls, "Potter, Harry!"

A sudden hush falls over the hall, then a flurry of hushed whispers. Zayn shakes his head, as if to clear his ears.

"No way," he mumbles.

Confused, Niall doesn't say anything. The hall is silent as can be as Harry Potter sits up there, and when the hat calls out "GRYFFINDOR!" the table by the name cheers the loudest, two red haired twins standing on their seats and chanting "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

The sorting goes quickly after that, and when the food has appeared on the tables, Niall turns back to Zayn. "Who's Harry Potter?" he asks conversationally, serving himself.

Zayn laughs disbelievingly. "Who's Harry Potter? Why, he's only the Boy Who Lived! Killed You Know Who when he was just a year old." He shakes his head, grabbing a plate with mash out of Niall's hands. "Who's Harry Potter, I can't believe it."

"Well, I am a Muggleborn," says Niall defensively. "Only just learned I have magic two months ago, so no, I  _don't_ know who." He grabs the plate back. "And I wasn't finished."

Still shaking his head, Zayn takes the plate back immediately, only Niall doesn't let go. They're stuck pulling the plate back and forth between them. "Even Muggles should know about Harry Potter and You Know Who, the two only shaped this decade!"

"Maybe they just weren't all that important, otherwise we'd have at least known  _something_." Niall pulls on the plate.

Zayn scoffs. "You were right in the middle of it all, seeing as the Potters lived in a mixed neighborhood."

"Oi," someone snaps. "Pass the mash already, would you?"

Zayn and Niall both turn their heads to see everyone closest to them staring. Blushing, Niall lets go of the plate and lets Zayn hand it off. They sit silent as they fill up the rest of their plates. Chewing on his lip, Niall turns back to Zayn.

"We're just going to have to spend all our time together until we've settled this," he says promptly. "Or until I've learned all about Harry Potter and You Know Who."

Grinning, Zayn nods. "Alright, then."

"And, since we haven't done proper introductions. I'm Niall." He sticks a hand out, grinning. The other boy laughs quietly, almost disbelievingly.

"Zayn."

•

"This seat taken?" Niall whispers. Hermione lifts her head, eyes wet. She shakes her head, wiping at her face. Frowning, Niall sits. "You alright?"

Hermione hums faux cheerfully, nodding. She reaches across the table to make space for Niall's things. "Peachy, why?"

"Uh," Niall laughs nervously. "You're crying?"

"Not crying," says Hermione. "Just allergies, from the dust."

"Ah."

They sit in silence, working on Transfiguration homework, until Hermione sniffs again. 

"Okay, who was it?" Niall asks. Hermione jerks her head up, startled.

"Who was what?" she asks warily.

"The one who made you cry."

Slumping, Hermione shakes her head again. "It's nothing." At Niall's unimpressed look, she sighs. "Fine. It was Harry and Ron, from my House. They just - they don't quite yet understand how to filter what they say so it's not as rude, you know?" She sniffs again, dipping her quill in ink. "I'm sure they didn't mean it. And I'm sure they didn't mean it last time, either."

Niall frowns. "They've done it more than once? That's just - well, that's just wrong! They're supposed to be your friends, your Housemates, they're not supposed to say mean things about you!"

"Oh, like you would know!" Hermione snaps. "Don't the Slytherins do the same with you? For being Muggleborn, of all things! At least the Gryffindors mock me for being smart, intelligent, a hard worker. Your Housemates mock you for something ridiculous!"

"Shhh!" someone hisses. They both jump, then lower their heads closer together.

"I can't help what the Gryffindors say about me," Hermione whispers harshly. "And you can't help what the Slytherins say about you. We've just got to deal with it." She sniffles again and straightens up, turning back to her work.

Niall sits back. "Fine."

•

The next day, he meets her again in the same spot. "Guess what."

She looks up warily. "What?"

He holds up a lock of bright blond hair. "Snipped this off Draco Malfoy. Told him that next time I'd scalp him."

Gasping, Hermione stands, snatching the lock out of his hand. "Why would you do that?"

Niall shrugs. "He called me a Mudblood."

Brows furrowing, Hermione sits back down. "No. I get what you're trying to do, and say, but no. I can't do that."

Nodding, Niall sits, spreading out his books. "I know. I just wanted to show that it can be helped, what they say about us. Maybe not in the same ways, but. It can."

Hermione doesn't say anything else, but Niall can swear she smiles.

•

By the next week, Niall sees her walking around the grounds, standing right by Harry and Ron.

•

Over the months, Niall and Zayn become closer friends. They share a bed most nights, when they're up late doing homework or just chatting, and they're never apart. They hear all the news at the same moment, like about the troll in the dungeons - apparently the cause of Hermione's sudden friendship with those boys, rather than his sage advice - and they hear about Harry Potter getting detention in the Forbidden Forest, and subsequently almost dying in the Forbidden Forest. They hear about the fights Harry Potter and his mates get into with Draco Malfoy and his mates, and they hear about Harry Potter winning every single Quidditch game he plays. They hear about Harry Potter sneaking into the forbidden corridor on the third floor, and they hear about Harry Potter facing Professor Quirrell, who ended up being Voldemort (Niall finally learned who You Know Who was supposed to be). They hear about final exams being cancelled, and they hear the final train whistle while sitting in a compartment together.

They promise to write over the summer, and they promise to meet again on September first, for the next school year at Hogwarts.

**Author's Note:**

> i know it was short and dumb and literally only described the first like five chapters of the book but i promise the rest won't be like that it's for a reason i promise


End file.
